The Midnight Man
by soraxtsuna123
Summary: After being challenged, Ponyboy plays the Midnight Man game. He didn't know that the ritual was not a game until it was too late. One-shot.


**Disclaimer: I do not own The Outsiders. Under no circumstances, do not play this game.**

 **o-o-o**

"Man, that game is freaky," one of Ponyboy's school friends commented one morning before their first class began. Ponyboy was absently paying attention, scribbling doodles in his notebook.

"It's not even real," another objected.

"Not true! My cousin played the game."

An eye roll. "Are you sure your cousin wasn't just saying that to get attention?"

"She's not! What do you think about this, Ponyboy?"

Ponyboy's head snapped up, mind blank. "Huh?" he asked. He totally missed the whole conversation.

"Do you think that the midnight man is real?"

"I mean, it's possible?"

"Instead of asking each other on your thoughts, why not play the game yourself?" The last friend asked.

"Nah, man, that's a girl's sleepover game," one boy objected, nervousness evident in his voice.

"Yeah…" the others chuckled softly, letting the conversation go to silence before turning back to Ponyboy.

Oh, no.

"Why don't you do it, Ponyboy? Tell us what happens!"

"No, it's fine. I have-" Ponyboy tried to object but was cut off.

"Come on! Don't be a pussy! Do it! I'll have my cousin write you the rules and stuff!"

And that's how Ponyboy found himself in his room a few days later with the instructions to the midnight game in his idle hands. He bit his lips, feeling more nervous than he thought he should. It was just a silly game…so why was he so scared?

The gang were out the Friday night, and would probably not be home till tomorrow…most likely really early in the morning. They had invited him, but he opted to stay behind to "finish homework". It was only an excuse to play the game because it was the only opportunity he had.

He read over the rules and the background to the game carefully. With each word, he felt even more dread.

"This is an old, pagan, punishment ritual, where the individual has to avoid a dark spirit until 3:33 am. Do not let him catch you. If the Midnight Man catches you, what happens to you is unclear. People have reported that he would rip out your organs or show your worse fears…" Ponyboy read slowly, eyes wide. "Some even say that the midnight man will follow you around until your death."

He shouldn't do this. This is full on risking his life. Then again, Ponyboy should have expected as much. Well, he shouldn't expect anything at all. In the end, it was just a silly game made up to trick the mind. Nothing should happen.

It's not real, Ponyboy…It's not real…he tried to soothe himself as he started the preparations. Ponyboy placed a blank sheet of paper in front of him and held a pen tightly in his shaking hands. Slowly, he wrote out, "Ponyboy Michael Curtis" in large, wobbly font that didn't even look like his handwriting.

The next step…prick his fingers and drop blood on the paper…Ponyboy did not want to do that…but he had to.

Reluctantly, he grabbed a safety pin that he recently took from his mom's old sewing box, eyeing the end of it, swallowing thickly. He slowly pressed his index finger on it, watching it sink in a bit, wincing. He removed it. Dropping the pin on the table and watched as blood poked out of the small puncture wound. The red orb fully shone in the light before sliding down his finger and onto the paper, absorbing quickly into the sheet.

Ponyboy stuck the finger into his mouth and sucked at it. He glanced at the time. A few more minutes until midnight. He needed to hurry.

Ponyboy quickly ran around the house, turning off all of the lights and closing every door. The house was pitch black, making it hard to navigate around the house. He felt around, carefully making sure that he doesn't hit anything, to a wooden door. He placed the paper down on the floor. He took out the candle and a lighter from his jacket's pocket and carefully lit it, relief washing over the boy as he felt a hundred times safer with some sort of light. However, the flames cast eerie, dancing shadows around him. He placed it down on the paper and turned to the door, looking at the clock. 11:59…

Here goes nothing. Ponyboy started knocking.

One

Two

Three

Four

Five

The house started to become cold. Ponyboy's hairs stood on its ends.

Six

Seven

Eight

Nine

Ten

Call him crazy, but Ponyboy could have sworn he heard some whispers from the other side of the door.

Eleven

Twelve

Thirteen

Fourteen

Fifteen

From the light that shone from the candle, he saw his breath.

Sixteen

Seventeen

Eighteen

Nineteen

Twenty

Something was definitely wrong. This wasn't right. Something was here, waiting to lunge at him.

Twenty-one

Oh, how Ponyboy wished he went with the gang and just lied about playing the gang. He glanced at the clock, watching the hand strike 12:00.

Twenty-two

Everything was at a standstill. The house got warmer and the whispers stopped. He opened the door, bending down to blow out the candle, before closing the door again. As soon as he did, it felt like something was rushing at him, encircling him; ready to devour him. Ponyboy took out the lighter and flicked a flame to light, that feeling fading away. He lit the candle again.

It was time for the actual game.

Ponyboy recalled in the game that he had to continuously move around the house and never stop moving. If his candle goes out, he only had ten seconds to relight it. If he fails, then he has to create a circle of salt around him and wait until the end of the game. He had to watch out for signs that the midnight man was near: dropping temperature, whispering, a silhouette, or the candle going out. He must not turn on any light, switch to a flashlight, sleep, use a lighter, leave the house, or provoke the entity.

Ponyboy slowly crept around the house, entering rooms and exiting them. It was dead silent and for the longest time, nothing happened. Ponyboy passed by the clock again. It was only 1:00.

By this time, Ponyboy was getting irritated and bored. The beginning signs must have just been nervous jitters. He was about to quit the game when he heard a shuffle behind him. Ponyboy spun around, his heart jumping out of his chest. For a brief moment, he sees a flash of a dark figure moving. Then the flame blew out as if someone had actually blown air on it, and the boy was consumed by darkness.

Panicking, Ponyboy fumbled with the lighter.

One second.

Through his fumbling, the lighter fell out of his hand and skidded across the floor.

Two seconds.

He fell to the floor, dragging his hands around the ground in search of lighter.

Three seconds.

His hands found it.

Four seconds.

He tried to light it, but it wasn't lighting.

Five seconds.

Fuck, fuck, fuck!

Six seconds.

The flame flickered to life.

Seven seconds.

He lit the candle, letting out a sigh of relief.

He had to get out of there. Ponyboy left the living room, heading to his room. Again, the house went back to normal…well, as normal is it could be in that situation. He stopped, taking a huge breath. Holy cow. What just happened? That couldn't be a coincidence.

As he was calming down in his room, he heard keys on the piano being played.

What the…

Ponyboy flung open the doors and ran to the piano, finding that the lid has been open. He was sure that it wasn't like that when he started the ritual. No, he was definitely sure it wasn't like that. Someone was in the house with him.

"Guys? You here?" Ponyboy called out. It had to be a prank. "This isn't funny."

But no one came out to laugh at him.

1:15

3:33 was going to take forever. He had to get through this. He just had to. He entered the kitchen, and as soon as he did, the light, once again, dissipated. Around him, there were loud rolling sounds. He lit the candle again, taking a look around the kitchen, finding that all of the drawers and cabinets were thrown open.

' _Look…me…'_ whispers were like knives in the silence. The drawers and cabinets simultaneously slammed shut, causing the boy to jump out of his skin and scream. He ran out of the kitchen and into the living room and froze in the spot from fear. He stood there, like a deer caught in highlights, as he stared at the giant silhouette that towered over him, head almost hitting the ceiling.

The candle blew out again.

One second.

Ponyboy reached for the lighter.

Two seconds.

He tried to light it, but the flame wasn't coming up.

Three seconds.

He kept trying.

Four seconds.

Nothing was happening.

Five seconds.

No way. The lighter couldn't have run out of juice right now.

Six seconds.

The whispers were getting louder and the temperature in the room dropped.

Seven seconds.

He wasn't going to make it. Ponyboy grabbed the bottle of sale in his other pocket.

Eight seconds.

He poured the salt out around him in half of a circle.

Nine seconds.

He finished the other half.

Ten seconds.

Ponyboy sat down with a sigh. The salt will protect him. He played with the lighter, finally able to get the flame out. He lit the candle and just sat there.

2:00

Everything was calm as if what happened hadn't perspired. But, deep down, Ponyboy knew that it wasn't over.

The house flooded with light as Darry's truck pulled up in the driveway. If Ponyboy was a dog, his tail would have been wagging from the amount of relief was filling him.

However, that relief filled with dread as the door opened. "Why is the light off?" Soda asked. "Lemmie just…"

"No! Soda, don't turn on the light!" Ponyboy yelled as he remembered one of the most important rules in the ritual.

But it was too late.

The light turned on and the gang stared at Ponyboy, who was situated in the middle of the living room, surrounded by a ring of salt with a candle in his hands.

"What the…" Steve trailed off. Normally, Ponyboy would have been embarrassed, but he was terrified. It was only 2:15 and the light was on. But, then again, nothing happened to him.

"What are you doing?" Darry asked, crossing his arms.

"I…uh…" Ponyboy started but couldn't answer the question. What was he supposed to say? That he was trying to summon a demon that might have killed him? "I'm just going to go to bed. I'll clean up the mess in the morning."

Ponyboy blew out the candle and quickly shuffled to his room in embarrassment. He collapsed on the bed, the stress catching up with him. His eyes soon drooped, but all Ponyboy could think about was the feeling that someone was watching him.

 **o-o-o**

Ponyboy's eyes snapped open, the bedroom dark besides the light that shone through the window. Soda was sleeping soundly next to him. Ponyboy sighed, as he relaxed, trying to fall back asleep…but he couldn't. Before he could close his eyes again, Ponyboy caught a shadow looming over the bed. It slowly moves towards the side of the bed, stopping momentarily by the window. The figure was tall, as tall as the shadow he saw when playing the game. It had red glowing eyes that burned in Ponyboy's soul. All of Ponyboy's senses were screaming at him to run; that he was going to die, but his body was paralyzed. No matter what he did, it felt as though he was pinned to the bed. He opened his mouth to scream, but the shadow lunged at him, hands that looked like long claws. They wrapped around his throat, squeezing tightly. Ponyboy gasped, eyes growing wide. He grabbed at the shadowy hand, but his fingers were just fazing though. He gasped and gasped for air as his vision started to darken, the eyes of the demon glowing brightly through the haze.

"So—So—da!" he tried to get yell, turning his head slightly to look at his brother, but could only let out a choked sob at what he saw. Soda was staring at him with dull eyes, throat split open. The skin that was cut was jagged as if a dull knife was used. "Soda!"

Ponyboy's eyes snapped open as he flung forward, gasping for breath. He grabbed his throat as he looked around the room. The figure was gone and Soda was sleeping soundly, no cut in his throat.

It was just a nightmare

Ponyboy rubbed his eyes with his palms, shaking his head. He was glad that he didn't wake his brother, but he really wished they were. He rubbed his tongue over his lips. They were really chapped, and his throat was dry.

Ponyboy swung his legs over the bed and walked to the kitchen to get a glass of water. He made sure to turn on the lights as she walked through. He didn't think he could be left in the dark any longer.

But before he could reach the kitchen, the lights flickered above him, temperature dropping. The hairs off of his arms stood on their ends, his breath coming out in fog. Before Ponyboy could call out for help or run, the lights completely shut off. The last thing he remembered seeing was two, glowing red eyes.

 **o-o-o**

Soda yawned, feeling cold on both sides of the bed. Ponyboy must have been in the bathroom.

But as time continued, the more he doubted that idea. Ponyboy didn't come back to bed.

He lifted himself from the bed, heading outside to check where his brother was. His hands groped around for the light switch in the living room before the lights flickered on. As soon as his eyes adjusted, he screamed in horror.

Ponyboy was bent in unnatural positions, twitching uncontrollably. His eyes were rolled up behind his head, muttering words he couldn't really understand. Foam was pooling out of his mouth as his body. Ponyboy's head turned towards Soda, a shaking, bent finger pointed at him. His voice came out low, and demonic. "You're next."


End file.
